The Final Drop
by Nero Vipus
Summary: As one of thousands of recruits brought into the newly founded Celestian Twenty-Third Drop Regiment, John Cythos dreamed of fighting for glory and honour. He was soon to find that there is little glory, and even less honour, to be gained from the horrors of war. From the calm forests of Celestal to the blistering sands of the fortress world of Rakthor, only death awaits.
1. Prologue

Grey clouds floated carelessly through the midnight sky. Bright pinpricks twinkled briefly before being cowed into hiding by the slow moving mist. A light haze hung in the air, accompanied by a drizzling rain. The ground began its night-long conversion from dirt to mud. Spears of light cut through the dark as gravcars flew by, barely half a metre off the ground. A blanket of green surounded the vehicles and guided them on their journey. Deep within these woods, another beacon flickered and danced in defiance of the rain. Laughter emanated from the clearing as a group of friends told stories around a fire, and made promises for their future.

To Celestal! To the Twenty-Third!' One of the men shouted out, raising a canteen into the sky. Shouts and cheers of agreement chorused after him. The man turned to his side and pushed the teenager next to him. 'In a few years, you'll join up and together we'll conquer the galaxy. Nothing will be able to stop us. We'll become the Imperium's finest heroes!'

The younger man gazed at his brother in barely concealed awe. The teenager knew that the universe beyond Celestal was a dark and cruel one. He knew that to face such a darkness usually meant certain death. To willingly do so, to fight an evil beyond words, to give heart and soul in defense of one's homeworld, such is the fate the teenager's brother had just chosen.

John Cythos looked around at his gathered friends before once again glancing at his younger brother beside him. With the exception of his brother, the group had completed the final tests and paperwork to join the newly formed Celestian Twenty-Third Drop Regiment earlier in the day. The friends sat around the fire cheering each other on in drinking contests, laughing as one of them coughed and sputtered. John shouted for quiet and stood up.

'Today, we have taken the first steps on the road to greatness. I'm proud to call each and every one of you my brothers. To serve in the Guard and fight for Celestal is an honour I hold dear. To share that honour with you is a wish I could never have dreamed for. Raise your glasses high and shout your pride so that all of Celestal may hear it! Tonight, we celebrate friendship and brotherhood. Tomorrow, we go to war and show the rest of the universe what we can do!' John turned to his brother and flashed a wide grin, 'Don't worry. We'll see you again in a few years, when you're older. By the Emperor, the stories we'll have...' He trailed off and smiled again. His brother stood up and raised his own cup.

'To Celestal! To the Twenty-Third!'


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Laughter echoed throughout the cavernous cargo-hold-turned-practice-field. A crash reverberated through the steel and adamantium walls, signaling the most recent failure. Trooper John Cythos ducked as his closest friend soared over him and slammed into the ground. The grav-chute attached to the soldier's back disconnected itself and spiraled into the air, dropping to the floor once the suspensor fields and promethium thrusters cut off. The glaring overhead lights ensured there were no shadows for the soldier to hide in as the squad's sergeant approached him.

'Damn it Eros, get your shit together!' Sergeant Vaskur shouted, giving the trooper a deadly glare.

'Yes Sergeant! Sorry Sergeant!' Trooper Matt Eros fired off a grin at Cythos and ran over to pick up his grav-chute.

Cythos stepped forward and began his own climb to the top of a five metre tower, the steel supports stained red from rust. The tower shook as yet another soldier on the other side of the cargo-hold failed to control his descent, the resulting noise almost drowning out the shouts of the training sergeants.

Sergeant Vaskur glared at Cythos, his sharp black eyes eerily offsetting his grizzled features. The scar on his forehead tightened as the sergeant scowled at the soldier. 'Better get this one right, Trooper.' The sergeant looked around at the squad behind him. 'Your precious lives depend on this bit of equipment. If you can't pull your heads far enough out of your asses to properly control it, then I'd be happy to watch you turn yourselves into pancakes on your first drop.'

Cythos sighed, having quickly gotten used to his sergeant's harsh words. He walked to the edge of the platform, took a deep breath, and stepped off. The suspensors on his back whined into life, immediately slowing his descent. Momentarily forgetting to fire the promethium directional thrusters, Cythos tumbled head over heels. Barely half a metre from the ground, the trooper halted his fall, grinning wildly around him.

'Cythos, quit fucking around and show me you know how to hover!'

The soldier let out a bark of laughter and turned towards his sergeant. 'Sergeant Vaskur! This trooper requests permission to land!' Cythos struggled to maintain his composure as the grav-chute wobbled. The whine of the repulsors grew in pitch as sparks flew from the bottom of the unit. The pack's left directional thruster blasted a short burst before exploding. Cythos flew into the tower next to him, slamming his head into the support structure before tumbling to the ground. His fellow squad mates burst into raucous laughter.

Sergeant Vaskur sighed, turning his gaze to the window leading into the Observation Deck. Seeing the stiff forms of his commander and the regiment's commisar, Vaskur cursed and muttered under his breath, 'These idiots are going to get me killed.'

* * *

Cythos smiled as he saw his friend Matt Eros running over to him. The two had met during their early childhood, having lived in the same town. The two troopers stopped by a viewport and leaned against the railing of the walkway. Beyond the fibreglass window, they could see countless stars winking back at them. The vast, cold emptiness of the void beckoned to them, silently whispering their names to the listening dark. Beneath the ship, the blue-green orb of Celestal slowly rotated, the terminator line inching across the surface. The soldiers gazed in awe and wonderment as the sun breached the horizon, bathing the planet in its glow. Brilliant hues of navy, cyan, emerald, and violet danced around the poles, sparked into life by the sun's birth.

'Celestal is more beautiful then ever, isn't she, Matt?'

Eros turned to the trooper next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 'John, my friend, Celestal's beauty has always been a hidden one. You just need to know where to look.'

'Aye, that holds true.' Cythos glanced behind him, spotted his commander, and straightened.

Sergeant Vaskur stopped in front of the two soldiers, glowering at them. 'What in the Emperor's Holy Bowels were those stunts you pulled in grav-chute training?'

'Nothing, Sergeant. Merely lost control of the chute is all. Won't happen again,' Eros beamed.

'It had better not,' Vaskur snarled. 'We've received our deployment orders. A piss-pot of a planet called Rakthor has turned its face from the Emperor's light. Unfortunately for us, we can't just barrel on in and bring His Golden Boots crashing down upon their heads.'

'Where do we come in, Sergeant?' Cythos cut in, excitement creeping into his voice.

'There is a communications array on the neighbouring planet that must be silenced prior to the main assault. The array's anti-air capabilities are too powerful for the mighty Navy's Valkyries and Vendettas to launch a proper bombing run, so the task has fallen to us. The Twenty-Third has been _volunteered_ ,' Vaskur spat the word, proving the opposite to be true, 'to make a sub-orbital drop to capture or destroy the facility.'

Eros gaped in shock, 'Sub-orbital? We're to make a one hundred kilometre drop on our first mission?'

'Aye,' the Sergeant grunted. 'So get your shit in gear and don't fuck up anymore training sessions. I don't much care if you turn into a bloody mess on landing, but I don't want to be forced to clean your guts into a damned ditch. Understood?'

'Yes, Sergeant!' both troopers shouted. Cythos turned and clapped his friend on the back. 'Come, Eros. There are preparations to be made!'

* * *

Trooper Sara Valessi glanced around her, a queesy look on her face. She leaned onto her bunk and took a deep breath. Hearing snickering coming from her left, Valessi grabbed her headrest and threw it at the offending voice.

'Damnit John, I forgot about the blasted Warp-travel! Otherwise I would never had joined you guys in the Guard!'

Cythos and Eros burst into laughter. 'We haven't even made the jump yet! There's still about ten minutes before the Warp drives are fully primed and ready to fire,' Cythos stated.

'Yeah, but just the thought of going into the daemon-infested realm doesn't sit well with me,' Valessi replied, slumping to the floor. 'What if the Geller Fields fail? I don't want to be eaten. Dying in combat is one thing, but there are stories of entire ships being lost to the Warp. Nothing but dust and echoes left in their corridors. Blood covering the walls. Screams echoing throughout the holds.'

Eros' face softened. 'Sara, we'll be fine. This ship is brand new - relatively speaking. It hasn't even reached its hundredth year of service yet. The Fields won't fail. You won't be daemon food.'

'Aye,' Cythos agreed. 'If anything, you've just been listening to too many horror stories on the 'net. It's not as if you'll be pulled into a nightmare and killed by a guy with claws for hands,' he laughed.

Valessi smiled at her friends efforts to cheer her up. 'I suppose you're right about that, but what about getting a vox-signal about dying in seven days?' Cythos and Eros shot each other a grin before turning back to Valessi.

'Oh yeah, like the Gods of Chaos are going to take the time out of their busy schedules of plundering and death to give you a call,' Cythos joked.

'Even if they did have the time,' Eros stated, ' they would be more likely to spend it trying to beg for mercy from more important people. You know, like the oh-so-glorious Sergeant Vaskur.' The group's laughter was cut short as they heard the hissing of an opening door. The three soldiers leapt to their feet and struggled to hide their smirks and giggles.

'My, my, my. What do we have here?' boomed an authoritative voice. 'Little maggots mocking the chain of command? How dare you defile the name of the Emperor's Holy Imperial Guard with your bigotry?'

Cythos let out a loud groan and turned towards the newcomer. 'Shut up, Aelius. The sergeant's not here, you don't need to kiss his ass.'

Felix Aelius, the fourth member of the band of friends, allowed a broad grin to cross his face. Jade coloured eyes looked over the three before him. He ran a callused hand through his short, wavy black hair. 'Oh, well in that case, settle in lads! We're about to make the jump so I did some last minute digging on the 'net. I found a card game from ancient Terra called Poke, or Poke Her or some stupid nonsense like that. It's a betting game, and I know your love of those,' he quipped, shooting a glance at Eros. 'Want to play?'

The four friends pulled up their chairs to a table on the side of the room. Bickering and jokes flew from one person to another as they struggled to understand the arcane rules of the game. They quickly became lost in their own little world, not even registering the entrance of the fifth and final member of their group from the woods. Erik Wolff 's steel grey eyes quickly hopped over his friends, before turning to his bunk. Quietly climbing on the bed and leaning against the wall, he gladly accepted his place within the group. He leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing his scarred head to rest against the wall. The soldier slowly drifted off into the hell that are his memories.

* * *

'Attention: Thirty seconds to jump. Prepare for Warp,' the voice of the ship's captain echoed throughout the halls. Guardsman sprinted to their assigned stations, attempting to stay out of the way of the crew. The bridge crew held their breath as they heard muffled screaming from the locked room behind them. They knew the astropath was fighting to maintain his sanity as he picked safe passage through the realm of Gods and Daemons. Light flickered before the ship's bow, shooting off into space.

Cracks appeared in the fabric of reality, forcing the void apart. The captain shut his eyes as the myraid untold colours and horros of the Warp opened before him. The ship slid forward, slipping silently into the break in the universe. With a flash, the ship vanished, the hole in space sealing itself behind it. Far below, the planet Celestal continued its slow, lazy spin through the galaxy, its citizens only now waking to the new day.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sirens blared throughout the corridors, rebounding off the walls and rising to a deafening cry. Guardsmen sprinted down the halls, strapping on helmets and priming lasguns. John Cythos pressed himself against the wall to avoid being trampled by another squad and glanced behind him, trying to regain his bearings. Spotting Sergeant Vaskur, the trooper ran over and dropped his gear.

'Trooper Cythos reporting as ordered, Sergeant!'

'About fucking time. Where in the Warp are your damned bunk-mates?' Vaskur growled. Just as he finished the question, four more soldiers entered the main corridor from a half-hidden side-passage.

'Valessi, Wolff, Eros, and Aelius reporting for deployment!'

Vaskur looked over the group and grimaced. 'Have the fucking decency to at least attempt to look the part of an Imperial Soldier,' he snapped. 'Everyone else is already waiting by the Valkyries, so get moving.'

The squad snapped a quick affirmative and shouldered their packs. With the sergeant in the lead, the group forced their way through the crowded halls, moving towards the fore embarkation deck. Passing through a final hatch, the deck around them opened up into a massive hangar. Valkyries lined the causeways, their ramps down and awaiting precious cargo. Guardsmen squads lined up by each transport, eagerly anticipating the order to launch. Enormous cranes passed overhead, slamming high-yield missiles into the ammo racks of Vendetta Gunships. The black robes of a Commissar fluttered in the commotion as the regiment's command squad approached the Valkyrie closest to the ship's energy fields. The colonel glanced outside, briefly admiring the vast expanse of the void before turning to the assembled companies.

'Men and women of the Twenty-Third! This is your first drop. Do not let it be your last!' With that, the Colonel boarded his waiting Valkyrie and sealed the assault ramp.

'You heard the bastard, load up!' Vaskur shouted, staring angrily at the group behind him.

Cythos grinned and charged up the loading ramp, followed by his friends and four other Guardsmen. Running to the end of the troop compartment, Cythos dropped his gear at his feet, slammed his rifle into the weapons rack, and pulled the seat's harness down on his shoulders. Hearing a quiet voice to his right, he saw Valessi clenching her eyes shut and whispering a prayer to the Immortal God-Emperor. Eros shouted at Aelius, trying to make a bet on who would get the most kills. Wolff stared blankly at the wall before him, Emperor knows what thoughts running through his mind. Vaskur entered the compartment and slammed the button next to him, causing the assault ramp to swing up and seal into place.

'By Terra, shut up!' The sergeant glowered at the soldiers around him, reaching up and grabbing onto a strut in the ceiling. 'Eros, Aelius, you two are more likely to become bloody pulps on landing than you are to score a single kill. Valessi, the Emperor has far more important matters to attend to than your sorry ass. Cythos, wipe that fucking smirk off your face.' The ship lurched underneath them, accelerating through the energy fields into the dark, momentarily disrupting Vaskur's thoughts.

'Two minutes to drop,' the pilot's voice echoed through the vox-network.

Vaskur marched to the front of the compartment. 'Cythos, you're up first. Get your ass to the line.'

'Yes, Sergeant!' The trooper slung his pack onto his back and grabbed his rifle. Carefully stepping towards the sealed ramp, he stopped at a thin yellow line painted onto the floor. Eros moved up behind him, steadying himself as the Valkyrie shuddered, a loud bang reverberating through the transport's walls.

'One minute to drop.'

Vaskur stood beside Cythos, glanced at the trooper, and hit the button at his side. The rear assault ramp blew open, filling the compartment with hurricane strength winds. Cythos grunted, struggling to hold onto the supports. The colour left his face as he stared out of the Valkyrie, nothing but empty space before him.

'Approaching one hundred kilometres. We are go for drop.' Red pulses flashed throughout the troop bay, casting everything in its crimson glow. Vaskur clapped Cythos' shoulder, turned to the ramp, and disappeared from view. Cythos forced himself to the edge of the ramp, desperately clutching the hand-holds. Behind him, Eros snickered, moving to his side.

'I'll see you on the ground, if you ever make it off!' The soldier fell backwards off the Valkyrie, instantly being sucked away by the terrifying force. John sighed, trying to gather his courage. Taking one last step, he was torn out of the ship. Tumbling through the air, he panicked and struggled to regain control. His breath echoed inside his helmet, blocking out all thought. Remembering his training, Cythos moved himself into a spread-eagled stance and attempted to control his fall. Behind him, Valessi and Wolff fell into an arrowhead formation, with Cythos at the lead. The other four squad members were nowhere to be seen.

'Eighty kilometres.' A strange peace filled the trooper as he surveyed the heavens around him. Thin grey clouds flew by as he began passing into the planet's mesosphere. Ice crystals formed around his visor, narrowing his field of view to just a few degrees. The vast darkness of the midnight sky stretched out below him, the clouds slowly parting to reveal the planet's surface. Enormous mountain ranges blanketed by thick sheets of snow and ice reached out to surround tiny pinpricks of light.

'Fifty kilometres.' Far below him, the pinpricks began to flash, sending bright streaks into the air.

Vaskur's voice suddenly shouted in his ears, ringing through the vox-bead, 'Incoming flak!'

Explosions tore through the heavens, sending shrapnel flying out at the falling soldiers. Cythos glanced to his side as a round screamed past him, detonating in a dark cloud of smoke and debris. Off to his left, another squad of Guardsmen failed to evade one such cloud and was immediately torn to shreds, becoming little more than puffs of blood framed by pieces of armour. John tucked his arms tightly to his sides and sped through the air, aiming for the flashes beneath him. Spotting Vaskur not too far off to his right, Cythos angled himself in the direction of the sergeant.

'Twenty kilometres. Prepare for a hard landing!'

Alarms began to sound as the Chaos base responded to the incoming Imperials. Searchlights snapped on, piercing the sky with their accusing glares. Traitor Guardsmen raised their weapons, firing indiscriminately at their targets. Lasbolts flashed past Cythos, passing close enough for him to feel their heat. At six-hundred metres, the Celestian forced himself straight and activated the grav-chute attached to his back. The suspensor fields whined into life, instantly slowing his descent. Unslinging his lasrifle, the soldier was about to fire into the base before Vaskur's voice cut through him.

'Don't fire that fucking weapon until you land! Are you trying to hit your fellow troopers already on the ground?'

Seeing a flash in the corner of his eye, Cythos fired off his directional thrusters, spinning out of the way of an incoming flak shell. The shell passed through the space he had just occupied a split second before and detonated thirty metres above him. Finally slamming into the ground, the soldier tucked into a roll and came up firing. Behind him, Valessi lost control of her chute at the last second, crashing into the side of a building and crying out in pain.

'Erik, check on Sara!' Cythos shouted, moving to the corner of a nearby wall. Screams echoed through the compound, fighting with the hiss and whine of lasbolts for dominance of the field. Erik Wolff ran over to his injured friend and crouched over her.

'Broken arm, but otherwise fine. I'll cover her while you find the sergeant.'

Cythos nodded and moved forward. Turning the corner, he narrowly avoided having his neck torn open by a charging bayonet. The soldier fell back in surprise, a shout emanating from his throat. A cultist in front of him smiled through blood soaked teeth and raised his weapon again. John scrambled away, fumbling with his own rifle, attempting to line up the barrel with his enemy. The Chaos filth roared in laughter at the Imperial's fear and thrust the bayonet forward like a make-shift spear. Just before Cythos was impaled, the cultist's head exploded, showering him in blood and brain matter. Sergeant Vaskur stood over him and kicked him hard in the gut.

'Not selling your life for much, are you? Get on your fucking feet and shoot the bastards,' Vaskur growled.

Cythos climbed to his feet and wiped the gore from his face. Grabbing his lasgun off the ground, he charged after his sergeant.

* * *

Felix Aelius crouched behind a broken section of rubble, firing madly across an open assembly ground. The traitor on the other side of the field clutched his at the cauterized hole in his chest and fell over, the blood in his veins flash-boiled by the intense heat of the lasround. Aelius dropped the empty battery and slammed a fresh pack home. He pointed to a side street and shouted to the soldier next to him.

'Matt, incoming at your ten!'

Eros swung to his left and ducked low, training his weapon on the street. A second later, yet another squad of Chaos infantry ran out into the open. Eros reached behind him and grabbed a grenade, hitting the primer as it left his hand. He reached over and pushed his comrade to the ground to shield him from the blast. The enemy group fared less well, limbs and body parts flying across the compound. The building next to them collapsed from the massive opening gouged into the walls.

'Aelius, get back! We can't stay here,' the soldier shouted.

'Agreed, my friend. Let's make for that tower over there,' Felix shouted, pointing to the radar dish at the centre of the compound. 'Cover me, I'm going to make a break for the entrance.' Without waiting for a response, he lunged out from behind the rubble and sprinted for the door. Cursing, Eros slammed his weapon on top of the debris and let loose a hail of energy. Fires raged across the base, making it hard to see anything beyond the assembly ground's relatively open clearing. Eros struggled to make out targets in the haze, taking pot-shots at anything that moved.

Reaching the door, Aelius spun around and crouched to one knee, raising his rifle. Firing the weapon single-handedly, he waved for Eros to begin his own mad dash for safety. Lasbolts impacted the ground around his feet as Matt left his cover. He heard a whistle hurl past his head as someone brought up a ballistic rifle. Ricochets snapped up clouds of dust as they bounced off the dirt. Diving through the door, he rolled into the room and scanned the shadows around him. Behind him, Aelius slammed the door shut, bolting it from the inside. Bangs reverberated through the metal as the Chaos force tried to shoot its way through.

'How long do you think that will hold?' Eros asked, motioning to the door.

'Long enough for us to find the control room. Have you had any contact with Cythos and the others?'

'Negative. I'm sure they're fine. Let's go set those charges and get out of this Emperor-forsaken place.' The two soldiers switched on their rifle's flashlights and slowly crept through the building, checking every room they came across. Silence reigned in the vastness of the building's interior, deafening in its strength. Shadows flickered and danced, forced into animation by the Imperials' progress. Dust particles hung gracefully in the air, giving the building its own personal fog. Finding a set of stairs, the Guardsmen quietly ascended to the top floor, weapons constantly trained on the opposite landing. The two glanced at each other as the building shook, a small explosion coming from beneath them.

'Shit.'

'They're inside.'

'Aye, time's up,' Eros muttered. 'Start setting out the presents, I'll watch the stairs.'

Aelius nodded and rushed into the central command room. Taking out his demolition charges, he started trying to pinpoint the room's weaknesses. Muttering to himself, he placed a charge underneath the main console. He frowned and keyed his vox-bead.

'How long should I set them for?' he asked.

'By Terra, just get them primed!' Eros shouted as he saw the shadows of figures flowing up the walls of the stairwell. Leaning over the railing, he fired into the mass of enemies below. Lasfire etched grisly markings into soft human flesh, leaving behind smoking holes as a memento of its passing. The cultists ducked into side rooms and returned fire. Eros threw himself away from the railing to avoid the fusillade of energy blasts. Howls of laughter echoed through the building as the horde charged up the steps.

Aelius cursed and dropped his last charge, shoving it in a vent on the floor. He ran over and pulled his friend to his feet, shouting at him, 'They're set, let's go!' The soldiers ran low to the floor and vaulted through a window into the hallway. A swarm of screaming Chaos servants flowed into the room behind them, smashing the windows with a furious volley of fire. The Imperials scrambled across the floor to the outer windows and launched themselves out of the building. Eros cried out as he fell through the glass, a lasbolt shattering his shoulder.

Aelius screamed after his friend and grabbed onto his neck-guard, activating his grav-chute to slow their descent. He felt a muscle tear in his arm as he strained to hold onto Eros. Above him, the first of the traitors reached the window and leaned out, aiming his weapon at the falling soldiers. Fangs bared in a vicious smile, the scum failed to spot the detonator in the Guardsman's other hand. Explosions tore through the tower, sending debris flying into the night sky. Fires rushed through the corridors of the building, forced to greater speed by the close confines of the vents and airshafts, cutting off any escape from the interior. Structural supports groaned under the stresses of holding the building together before giving out and shattering in more than a dozen places.

Aelius's chute sputtered and died, the repulsors knocked out by a small piece of debris. Giving out a shout, he let Eros drop from his hand and slammed into the ground, sprawling onto his hands and knees in the dust. Eros grabbed his shoulder and screamed in pain as he fell onto the concrete. Clenching his eyes shut, he didn't notice the figures moving through the mist until they were directly in front of him. Before he could raise his rifle, a fist flew into the side of his head and threw him face-first to the ground.

'Don't you point that fucking weapon at me,' Sergeant Vaskur snarled, stepping out from the clouds of dirt. 'Cythos, grab your friend and help him to his feet. It's time to move on to the main course of action.'

* * *

The Colonel of the Twenty-Third surveyed the wreckage before him. Fires raged inside the ruined communications tower, the radar dish buried inside the rubble. Bodies littered the compound, Chaos and Imperial alike. Whispering a brief prayer to the Emperor to guard the souls of the fallen, the Colonel turned to the nearby Valkyrie. Quickly followed by the regiment's commissar and his own command squad, the soldier boarded the ship and left the base. With the array destroyed, the unit could move to support the main crusade on the neighbouring planet of Rakthor. Once there, his regiment would regroup with other Celestian units under the command of the famous General Silvan to retake the fortress world. He looked forward to seeing how the Twenty-Third would handle itself in a real war. Only time would tell and, by the Emperor, he prayed that the answer would not disappoint him.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Stars soared through the void, filling the vast expanse with their light. Every few seconds, one of the stars would flash and fade to nothing, signaling the death of millions of Imperial soldiers. Incandescent spears of energy lanced across the darkness, followed by hundreds of torpedoes. Explosions tore through the side of a ship as the void shields failed. Navy fighters danced with their Chaos counterparts, each trying desperately to destroy the other. Through the madness flew a formation of five Tetrarch Heavy Landers, escorted by a wing of Fury Interceptors. The Landers banked and fell towards the world beneath them. Fire wreathed the ships' hulls as they forced their way into the planet's atmosphere, the Furies peeling away and returning to the fight.

Inside the lead ship's troop deployment bays stood the first company of the Celestian Twenty-Third, their Commissar bellowing to the men before him. Cythos stole a quick glance around as the transport shuddered and dropped through the sky. Beside him stood Eros and the rest of his squad, each member preparing themselves in their own private way. Erik Wolff stared directly ahead, eyes locked on the ready lights by the assault ramp. Felix Aelius smirked like a madman and argued with another trooper about kill-counts from the previous engagement. Sara Valessi trembled and shook, silently whispering prayers to the Emperor for deliverance. Sergeant Vaskur looked over his squad, muttering to himself about all their perceived faults. Matt Eros winced and rubbed his shoulder, not yet accustomed to the bionic implants holding the tissue and bone together.

'This world dared turn its face from the Emperor's light!' The Commissar's voice finally managed to drown out the roar of the ship's engines. 'By His Sacred Grace, we shall show them the folly of their ways. Ready yourselves and put your faith in Him, for by his word alone will you survive.'

The Commissar raised his bolt-pistol and shouted, 'Flee and you die! Fight and you just may live!'

The transport slammed to the ground, causing the soldiers inside to stumble and struggle to keep their footing. Sirens rang out as the ramp fell open, allowing blistering winds into the bay. Sand and dust filled the air, bringing visibility down to nothing. Cythos shouldered his rifle and charged forward alongside his friends. A red sun crested the horizon, blinding him with its glare. Lascannon beams cut through the space around him, fired from the ship behind him. Vendetta Gunships raced through the sky, missiles streaking out from under their wings. Craters were gouged into the earth, as somewhere in the distance, an artillery battery greeted the charging Celestians. Pools of blood soaked the desert sands, body parts littering the ground.

Cythos stumbled in his assault, falling to his knees in dismay at the sight before him. Screams echoed through the vox-network, cries for reinforcements from distant landing sites going unheard in the chaos of the deployment. Wolff stepped beside him and dragged him to his feet.

'Don't falter, John. The Emperor is with us,' the trooper said, nodding to the distance. Cythos followed his gaze and stared in awe. Two massive towers threw up mountains of dust and created earth-shattering quakes with their landing. Twenty metre tall walls fell apart from the pods, revealing the cargo within. Smoke billowing from their engines, servos charging, and heat pouring off their primed weapons, two Warhound titans stepped forward. A river of fist-sized shells poured into the Chaos horde as one of the God-Machines let loose with its Vulcan Megabolter. Flame billowed out from the accompanying Titan's left arm, washing away the taint before it. Cheers erupted from the Guardsmen at the sight of their arrival before being cut short by an even more gargantuan ship falling from the sky behind them.

Lightning tore across the heavens as clouds swirled and trailed behind its descent. Acid rain caused by the transport's atmospheric entry raced after it. Cythos once again stumbled to the ground as the ship touched down, the weight of its arrival shattering a nearby mountain. A forward ramp of unspeakable size crashed open as another set of Warhounds sprinted out from the cargo bay. Behind them, lights flickered and static energy cracked through the air around the transport. Thunder echoed through the sky, accompanied by massive thudding footsteps. Two Reaver Battle Titans escorting an even larger Warlord emerged from the shadows of the hangar bay, instantly turning the battlefield before them into molten slag. Thousands of Chaos traitors perished in the first unimaginable volley. An entire armoured column vanished, vaporized in seconds by the Warlord's weapons.

Wolff turned back to the man beside him and smiled. 'The Emperor protects, Cythos, but he also destroys.'

* * *

'So, tell me again. Where exactly are we?'

Cythos sighed and looked over at Valessi, her legs splayed out before her as she sat on a stack of ammo crates. 'We're on a planet called Rakthor. According to Aelius, its supposed to be a fortress world with untold numbers of caverns and tunnels beneath the ground. The desert is meant as an easy means of defense and to render life above-ground either extremely difficult or impossible.'

'Oh, like the legends of Praeore?' Valessi smiled, referencing the distant home of an Astartes Chapter.

'Well, not exactly,' Cythos chuckled. 'I've heard the air there is so toxic your lungs would melt if you were to take a single breath. As you can clearly see,' he paused, taking a deep breath, 'we're not dead. No, its more-so the lack of water, the extreme heat, and the frequent sandstorms.' The soldier motioned to the window.

Outside, not a single ray of sunlight made it through the roaring winds. Sand coated the window frame, almost entirely covering the glass. Light speared across the panes for a split second before disappearing once more. The shadowy shape of a Valkyrie could barely be seen through the dusty fog, its pilot moving painstakingly slow, trying to use the ship's spotlight to pinpoint any potential obstacles. Inside the barracks, Eros snorted.

'Now that's what I don't understand. How can that thing's engines even work with all the sand?'

'The pilot can seal the engines and provide them with a stored supply of oxygen and air for a short time. Its how they can operate in hostile environments. If you had read through your manuals back on Celestal, you would know that,' Cythos replied, a grin spreading across his features.

Valessi punched him in the arm. 'Oh, like you're the model Guardsman,' she laughed. The group immediately quieted as the doors behind them whisked open. Sergeant Vaskur entered the room and grunted a brief greeting before closing the doors behind him. He turned and tossed a pair of data-slates onto the nearest bunk.

'These contain important information on this Emperor-forsaken rock they call a planet and the campaign ahead of us. For Terra's sake, actually read the fucking things. On the off chance that you don't, however,' he shot an accusing glare at Eros, 'We're here because Rakthor is supposed to defend the borders of the Celestian sector. What should have happened is a year long siege before anyone could even hope to take single city. Instead, these piss-poor cowards all threw down their weapons and turned their fucking backs on the Emperor. Now, the current Lord General, smart man that he is, realized that losing this planet left the entire sector open for future assault. So you sorry lot were forced off your lazy asses to take it back.'

Eros glanced outside, momentarily forgetting about the sandstorm. 'What kind of support do we have? Are there any other regiments from Celestal here?'

Vaskur grimaced. 'As a matter of fact, there are. We're accompanied by the Tenth Heavy Armoured and the Fifty-fourth Infantry. The famous General Sylvan is in charge of the Celestian detachment.'

'What about the Titans?' Cythos asked, his excitement getting the better of him.

'Legio Taranis has indeed been deployed. Considering that they were built not two systems away, I'd imagine their desire to retake this planet is much greater than yours. That said, if I so much as think your will to fight has been compromised, you'd best fucking hope the Commissar finds you first. All he would do is shoot you.' With that, Vaskur spun around and left the barracks.

* * *

Wolff crouched low to the marble floor, head bowed before the golden statue before him. Wooden seats stretching the length of the room lined the pathway upon which he knelt. Footsteps echoed through the hall, bouncing off the vaulted ceiling to fill the air. A passing Ecclesiarchy priest glanced at the lone soldier before continuing on his way. Through the chamber's towering reinforced stained glass windows, Wolff could see the sandstorm raging on. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer to the Emperor that only he could hear.

 _Figures rushed through a darkened forest, leaves snapping back against bare arms. Thorns left red slashes on their passing forms. Behind them, howling laughter echoed into the night, daring the two shadows to keep running._

Wolff's eyes snapped open and stared into the irises of the icon before him, silently questioning. Receiving no answer, the soldier sighed and slowly stood, his knees sore from being in the same position for so long. He made the sign of the Aquila on his chest and turned away. With a final glance at the image of his God and one last prayer on his lips, the Guardsman left the chapel.

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry guys, I know this one is a bit short, I had hoped it would be longer too :D Hopefully I'll be able to devote a bit more time to the next chapter and flesh it out nicely. Until then, enjoy and I'll see you guys next Wednesday!_


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